Something Wicked This Way...

It’s official…

The pulsating organ known as my heart, has hardened into a chunk of cold, hard ice. What once quivered and vibrated to a smooth, successive melody, is now a shortened, detached staccato note.

Potential suitors have been forewarned. It’ll require massive amounts of chipping and power drilling to reach its core. It’ll take a miracle cure (laden with generous amounts of heat and warmth) to make it melt

Much against my inclination, I’ve grown cynical about dating, like, love, giving, any hopes of receiving, and men. I feel as if I’m priming myself for a macabre war of the s-exes. I’ve lost a few battles, but plan on winning this combative fight.

In light of this sudden epiphany, I’ve learned a great deal about resilience, myself, and what my boundaries are. Gone are any feelings of tenderness, the capacity to cry, and the lethargy one feels, when caught up in the rapture of he. The look in my eyes paint a vivid picture of indignation… look long enough and you’ll see a perfect, dark storm manifested by strong winds of exasperation and the fury only a fed up woman, at the end of her rope, feels.

Are these ramblings of a woman, grown bitter about her prospects, and the improprieties of former paramours? Yes, indeed they are. I’ve no remorse, for hindsight is 20/20. I've only the strong urge to point, aim, and fire.

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